Equinox
by LyraBlack0714
Summary: Sequel to "A Darker Constellation". Lyra finds herself in more danger than ever during her fourth year at Hogwarts. Lyra's friendships are tested, and her loyalties are questioned. When Lyra finds herself in the middle of a dangerous plot, what will she have to sacrifice to save the boy she loves?
1. Chapter 1

Lyra and Brandon hopped off the Knight Bus, and slowly made their way to the entrance of St. Anne's orphanage.

After a few minutes of knocking on the door, Mrs. Winters wrenched it open and glared down at Lyra.

"B-Black?" Mrs. Winters spluttered. "I thought I was finally rid of you! I guess that godfather of yours finally realized how bratty you are."

Lyra pushed past the insufferable woman, pulling her trunk into the orphanage with her. She scowled at her surroundings. St. Anne's was just as cold and grimy as she remembered.

"I don't like this any more than you," Lyra stated shortly, not looking at Mrs. Winters. "Just leave Brandon and I alone, and we'll leave you alone. Deal?"

Mrs. Winters glowered, but muttered "Deal," and stomped off to her office.

Lyra helped Brandon carry his trunk up to his room before climbing all the way to the top floor of the orphanage where she used to share a room with Brianna. She set her trunk down, and looked around the room she grew up in. It was bare. Apparently, no one had moved in after Lyra had left two years ago.

She flopped on her bed, and tried not to think about Brianna. It was easy to ignore the constant grief at Hogwarts with Harry and her friends to comfort her. But here, everything was a sharp reminder of her best friend, her sister in every sense but blood.

Lyra also tried, unsuccessfully, to not think about Snape. How had things gone so wrong? She really thought he cared about her. He rescued her from this place, and shared his home with her for two summers. He always listened to her, and gave her advice. She thought she could trust him, but now she was all alone in this orphanage _again_. It wasn't fair.

At least Mrs. Winters was willing to leave Lyra alone.

* * *

Time passed slowly at the orphanage. Of course, Lyra kept to her word and took Brandon out as often as she could. They spent most their days wandering up and down Diagon Alley or downtown London.

Lyra kept in touch with her friends all summer through letters, and she sent Harry a new pair of Quidditch gloves and a box of chocolates for his birthday. Lyra couldn't wait to see Harry. In just a couple of weeks, they would be going to the Quidditch World Cup together. That reminded her that she really needed to get tickets. Lyra had no idea who she needed to talk to in order to get World Cup tickets, but she figured she would need to withdraw more money from her Gringott's account, and maybe a goblin would know how she could get the tickets.

Lyra ran down to Brandon's room. He was sitting at his desk, writing what looked like a very long Transfiguration essay. Lyra was glad she had already finished her summer assignments.

"Feel like going to the Alley?" she asked from the doorway.

Brandon jumped slightly, but turned around and grinned at her.

"Sure!" he said, throwing down his quill. "My hand was cramping up a bit anyway."

"Sure it was," Lyra said, rolling her eyes.

* * *

"Welcome to Gringott's, I am Bogrod. How can I help you?"

"Hello, I'm Lyra Black. I need some money from my account," Lyra said pleasantly. "Here's my key," she said, handing over the golden key she had received three years ago.

The goblin examined the key, and looked back up at her.

"Very well, Lady Black. How much money do you wish to withdraw?"

"Well-"

All of a sudden a flamboyant wizard walked up to the teller beside Lyra, loudly conversing with a pretty witch beside him.

"...of course, the organization for the World Cup couldn't be going smoother. Barty's all worried things will fall to pieces, but I as I keep trying to tell him he worries for too much-"

Lyra quietly asked the goblin teller who the man was, and whether he could get her tickets to the World Cup.

"Ludo Bagman," the goblin muttered disdainfully. "The Head of Magical Games and Sports at the Ministry. You could purchase tickets from him, but be careful. He doesn't have any sense when it comes to finances. Don't trust him, Lady Black," the goblin warned her.

She thanked the goblin, and approached Bagman.

"Excuse me, sir? I was wondering how I could obtain tickets to the upcoming Quidditch World Cup," Lyra asked quickly.

Bagman turned around and stared at her. "Where are your parents, kid?"

"I'm an orphan," Lyra said.

Bagman smiled. "Well, I'm sorry, but tickets to the Cup are very expensive. An orphan - well, I doubt you could afford-"

The goblin that had been helping Lyra started cackling.

"What?" Bagman exclaimed, turning to the goblin.

The goblin sneered at him. "The thought of Lady Black, heiress of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, not being able to _afford_ tickets to your sporting event - most ridiculous thing I've heard all day!"

Bagman stared at Lyra again, this time in something akin to awe.

"So, about those tickets?" Lyra asked impatiently.

* * *

After they left the bank with their tickets for the Top Box, Lyra led Brandon over to Florean Fortescue's.

"Want some ice cream?" she asked him.

When Brandon didn't reply, she looked behind her and saw that he looked distracted.

"What's wrong?" she asked, pulling him over off the main street.

Brandon sighed, and looked to the ground. "It's just - those tickets cost a lot of money - you shouldn't spend so much money on me..."

"Brandon!" Lyra said in a stern voice. "You're like a brother to me. I'm happy to share my money with you. Besides, I didn't do anything to deserve it in the first place. If our roles were reversed, you would do the same for me, wouldn't you?"

"Of course!" Brandon said.

"Then _you_ shouldn't feel guilty using my money. In fact, the next time we're at Gringotts I'm going to ask them to add you to my account, so that it's your money too."

Brandon's mouth fell open. "You - you would do that for me?"

Lyra smiled and mussed up his hair. "I would do anything for you, little brother," she said softly.

Brandon hugged her tightly.

"Thank you," he whispered.

After they enjoyed two big ice cream cones, Lyra and Brandon continued strolling through Diagon Alley. They had already gotten all their new supplies for the next year, and had explored the Alley's many shops.

Lyra was about to suggest they return to the Leaky Cauldron when something caught her eye. A small flower shop, almost invisible at first glance. She was curious, so she dragged Brandon over to the little shop.

A bell rang when they entered the shop. Lyra looked around, and saw some of the most exotic and beautiful plants she had ever encountered.

"Need anything, dears?"

Lyra jumped at the sudden sound. An elderly witch was standing behind the counter, watching them.

"N-no," Lyra stammered. "Just looking."

"What are we doing here, Ly?" Brandon hissed in her ear.

Lyra was saved from answering when the door opened, revealing two men having a quiet discussion. Lyra looked around more closely at the plants, trying not to overhear the discussion, but the shop was empty so it was hard to ignore.

"...I'm so sorry for your loss," one of the men said to the other. "and to think Bagman's trying to cover the whole thing up..."

Brandon looked up at Lyra questioningly, but she held her finger to her lips in a "shh" gesture. The second man started talking, and Lyra listened closely.

"...Bagman probably just doesn't want to deal with it on top of the World Cup and that ridiculous Tournament he's planning. He's trying to pass off my niece's disappearance as getting lost on her travels, but my sister and her husband reckon their poor Bertha's been killed...we're holding a small memorial for her this weekend..."

"Terrible, terrible," the first man said. "I swear, the ministry is run by idiots," he muttered.

Lyra couldn't help but agree. She was about to grab Brandon and leave, but she noticed a beautiful bouquet of white roses, and a thought struck her.

"Ly? Can we go now?" Brandon whined, tugging on her arm.

Lyra quickly took the roses to the shopkeeper, paid, and was out the door before Brandon could ask any more questions.

She set off at a brisk pace towards the Leaky Cauldron.

"Ly! Wait up!" Brandon panted, running to catch up with her. "What just happened? Who are those flowers for?"

"Brianna," she answered softly.

Brandon stopped in his tracks. "Wh-what?"

Lyra grabbed his hand, and led him into the Leaky Cauldron.

"I never got a chance to go to her funeral or anything," Lyra explained. "So I want to take these to her g-grave."

"Brianna didn't even get a real funeral," he said solemnly. "Mrs. Winters didn't want to pay for one-"

Lyra's blood boiled. "That - that horrible, cheap woman - I can't _believe_-"

Lyra took a deep breath to calm herself down.

Brandon was quiet during the ride back from Diagon Alley. Stan Shunpike asked whether they would like to be dropped off by the orphanage.

"Actually, can you drop us off at Great Hangleton's cemetery?"

Brandon spoke up. "She's not buried _there_."

Lyra looked at him in confusion. "What? Where else would she be buried?"

"The churchyard in Little Hangleton," he replied.

Stan nodded and went back up to the front of the Knight Bus to tell the driver.

"Why is she buried there instead of Great Hangleton's cemetery?" Lyra asked, though she already guessed the reason.

"Cheaper," Brandon spat.

Lyra shook her head sadly, and stared blankly out the window until they arrived at the graveyard.

"Little 'angleton!" Stan called.

Lyra and Brandon climbed off the bus, and approached the churchyard. The gates were rusty, and creaked loudly as they pushed them open. Even though it was mid-afternoon, the graveyard was dark. The graves menacingly loomed over them as they slowly walked between the rows.

Lyra felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She could sense someone, or some_thing_, watching her. She pulled out her wand, and spun around in a circle.

"Who's there?" she asked shakily.

"Lyra, what are you doing?" Brandon whispered. "There's nobody here but us!"

Then she heard it. A low hissing sound. She couldn't tell which direction it was coming from. Brandon whimpered, and grabbed onto her arm.

As quickly as it started, the hissing stopped. Brandon loosened his hold, and Lyra sighed.

"Let's j-just find it quickly, and get out of here," Brandon whispered. "This place is creepy."

They searched the graves for a few minutes before they found it crammed in between two bigger graves near the back of the churchyard. It was only a small grey headstone with Brianna's name on it, nothing else. Hot tears poured down Lyra's cheeks at the sight of it. She fell to her knees before the small grave, and carefully arranged the white roses in front of the headstone.

"I know it's not much, Brianna," Lyra said. "I promise once I'm of age, I'll come back and use magic to give you a proper grave. I...I am so sorry, Brianna. You deserved s-so much more...you deserved to live. I love you, Bri."

Brandon knelt down and wrapped his arms around Lyra. They sat there for a few minutes, staring at the grave.

"I guess we should get back to the orphanage," Lyra said after a while.

"Yeah," Brandon agreed quietly.

Lyra rose to her feet and led Brandon from the churchyard. She still had a feeling that they were not alone, but darkness and shadows hung over the graveyard, making it impossible to see clearly.

Finally, they reached the rusty gate. Lyra blinked at the sudden daylight, and she heard Brandon sigh in relief. They quickly summoned the Knight Bus and returned to Great Hangleton.

* * *

Lyra went straight to her room, and collapsed on her bed. She stared blankly at the ceiling, and tried to clear her mind. After a few minutes of deep breathing, the sadness and grief were replaced by cold anger. Dark thoughts about Mrs. Winters swirled around Lyra's head, filling her with coldness. She couldn't trust herself to be around the woman and not curse her, so Lyra locked herself inside her room for the rest of the night.

Someone - probably Brandon - knocked on her door around dinnertime, but they eventually gave up and went away.

The sun sank lower in the sky, and Lyra grew increasingly colder. She lifted up her locket, and found that it was ice cold to the touch. It felt as though it weighed ten pounds. Lyra closed her eyes, and tried to sleep. She was shivering uncontrollably, and no amount of blankets helped.

All of a sudden, Lyra heard an eerie melody. It filled her with a mindless emptiness, as if she were hypnotized. The melody grew louder, and a familiar hissing joined it.

_"Come child, come with me_

_Follow me child, follow me"_

Lyra rose from her bed, and stepped towards the voice. A part of her hesitated but another wave of emptiness washed over her, and she stepped closer to the voice. She was close enough now to see that it was a large snake, but it didn't frighten her as it should have.

_"Leave your wand, child, you won't need it_

_Leave your wand, and come with me..."_

Lyra followed the snake's instructions, and left her wand on the bed. She followed the snake in a daze out of the orphanage. The cold evening air didn't have any effect on her. Neither did the sharp gravel that was cutting into her bare feet. They walked in silence through the sleeping streets of Great Hangleton.


	2. Chapter 2

The snake led Lyra to a fine house on a hill. Something was fighting inside of Lyra, trying to tell her that this was wrong, but she was overcome with another wave of calmness.

The house was very dark inside. Lyra had to follow the sound of the snake's body slithering across the ground and up a flight of stairs. Once they got to a landing, Lyra saw a door ajar at the end of the hallway. The snake started hissing again.

_"Master, I have brought you the child as you asked."_

_"Well done, Nagini. Bring her in here."_

Lyra's feet lurched forward, and she found herself in a large room. A fire was the only source of light in the room; it cast long, spidery shadows upon the walls. A large armchair sat with its back to her.

All of a sudden, Lyra felt a lurch and feeling came back to her. She fell to her knees, and whimpered in pain. She was freezing cold, and her feet felt like they were on fire. She glanced down and saw that she was covered in dirt and blood.

_"Hello, my dear,"_ a cold, high-pitched voice hissed from behind the chair. Dread filled Lyra when she recognized the voice of her father, Lord Voldemort. She flung herself to the door, but it slammed shut before she could even get up.

_"Leaving so soon, my dear?" _

Lyra fell back down, and scooted backwards as far as she could.

"What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice cracking in fear.

Her father did not answer. Instead, a wand pointed at her from behind the chair. Lyra flinched, but nothing happened. She looked down and saw that her feet were healed.

"Why did you do that?" she asked, confused.

_"A simple 'thank you' would suffice."_

"Thank you," she grudgingly muttered. Lyra would have to play along if she wanted to survive. She was wandless. Besides, her father could easily kill her even if she had a wand.

"How did I get here?" Lyra asked.

_"I temporarily placed you under a variant of the Imperius curse. It is a personal invention of mine," _he replied proudly._ "Nagini was out hunting yesterday when she saw you and a boy in the churchyard. I had no idea you were so close or I would have summoned you to me sooner. There is so much you need to know, so much Dumbledore has been keeping from you..."_

Lyra's heart beat faster.

"You're wasting your time with me," she said softly. "I will never betray Harry. I would rather _die_."

It was silent for a moment. She knew her father was angry, and she braced herself for a curse, but none came.

"_I did not summon you here to discuss Potter,"_ her father icily replied.

"Then why _am_ I here?"

"_You are my daughter, Lyra. I wanted a child that I could share my knowledge with. Someone I could trust more than any other. Dumbledore has no doubt brainwashed you into hating me, but you are still my daughter and I care about you."_

Lyra stared incredulously at the back of the chair.

"Care about me? _Care about me? _If you cared about me, then why did you try to _kill me?"_ Lyra spat angrily, her voice growing in volume. "Why did you leave me in that horrible orphanage my whole life? Why did you force me to walk _barefoot_ in the cold all night? Why-"

_"Enough,_" Voldemort hissed angrily. _"I am your father, and I will not tolerate being spoken to in such a disrespectful manner."_

Lyra wrapped her arms around herself and glared angrily at the back of the chair.

_"You will learn_," her father continued in a softer tone. "_I have much to teach you, my dear...however, now is not the time. I know you have many questions, and they will be answered in time. For now, I have a gift for you. It is over by Nagini."_

Lyra slowly climbed to her feet. Pain shot through her entire body, but she managed to take a few steps to the hearth rug where Nagini was laying. Next to the snake was a partially wrapped package. She tore off the wrappings to reveal a small handheld mirror.

"_It belonged to your mother_," Voldemort explained. _"An heirloom of the House of Black. They come in pairs, and I have the other one. It will allow us to communicate. Letters are too risky, and your owl will not be able to find me while I am in hiding."_

Lyra wondered if her father was delusional. Did he honestly think she would ever want to contact him?

_"I know what you are thinking,"_ he said, as though he were reading her mind. _"I know you are loyal to Potter, and that you wish I were not your father. However, one day you will realize that Dumbledore does not have your best interests at heart. When that day comes, I wish to be available to help you."_

"What does that _mean_?" Lyra asked, losing her patience. "You've said before that Dumbledore doesn't have my best interests at heart, but Dumbledore's never done anything to hurt me! If anything, he's proven to be the only adult that I can trust!"

_"You will know the truth in time..."_ Voldemort said cryptically.

Lyra sighed in frustration, but pocketed the mirror nonetheless.

"Why can't I look at you?" she asked.

_"It would frighten you, my dear,"_ her father replied. _"I am less than human in this state. Not for much longer, though...we will be truly reunited soon..."_

Lyra shivered. She didn't know if it was from the cold or the confidence in her father's voice when he spoke of his imminent return.

_"...I am afraid that I am growing weary. Nagini will lead you back to the orphanage now."_

The snake lifted her triangular head, and started slithering across the room towards the door. Lyra was about to follow Nagini from the room when her father spoke again.

_"I am sure you will waste no time in telling Dumbledore about this visit. I will be leaving soon anyway. I know it is easy to hate me, Lyra. It is easy for you to blame me for every injustice you have suffered, but remember that you are my daughter. The mighty blood of Salazar Slytherin runs through our veins. It is your destiny to be great, my dear, and I can teach you how to become the witch you are meant to be. Dumbledore, however, would like nothing more than to use your power for his own gains. Remember that..."_

Lyra shivered again and stared blankly at the back of the armchair.

_"Come girl-child..."_ Nagini hissed impatiently.

Lyra turned around and quickly followed the snake from the house.

* * *

_"Why you couldn't have at least let me put on shoes before dragging me across Great Hangleton..."_ Lyra muttered to Nagini.

Again her feet were covered in scrapes and scratches. She had already fallen down twice from exhaustion. She didn't know how much farther she could go when the orphanage was suddenly in sight. It was midday at that point, and she got quite a few strange looks from people. She could only imagine what she looked like. She was covered in dirt and blood from head to toe and following a great big snake.

Nagini made a noise that Lyra thought sounded like a chuckle.

_"The child complains far too much..."_ the snake hissed to itself.

Lyra huffed in irritation. When the orphanage was only one more street away, Nagini stopped suddenly and turned towards Lyra.

_"Now is where I leave you..." _Nagini hissed before abruptly turning around and slithering down a dark alley out of sight.

Lyra continued hobbling down the length of the street and dragged herself up the stairs to the orphanage entrance. She knocked furiously on the front door of St. Anne's. After a while, the door flung open and Lyra found herself face to face with Mrs. Winters.

"Were have you _been_?" Mrs. Winters shrieked, taking in her disheveled appearance.

"Why do you care?" Lyra muttered under her breath, stepping around the woman into the orphanage.

Lyra was shaking uncontrollably, and she felt like she was ten seconds away from collapsing. Lyra began to haul herself up the stairs - they had never looked so unappealing before - but Mrs. Winters roughly grabbed Lyra's arm and dragged her towards her office. Lyra was too tired to put up a fight, so she stumbled along after the woman.

Mrs. Winters was muttering under her breath the whole way. "Ungrateful all of you - bizarre clothes - thinks he can come in here and make me look like a fool..."

Mrs. Winters ushered Lyra into the office before turning around and hurrying back out to the hallway. Lyra blinked in shock when she recognized the visitor.

"P-Professor Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore rose from his chair and looked at Lyra in concern.

"Lyra, what happened to you?" he asked, shocked.

"Ly!" cried Brandon, who Lyra hadn't noticed was in the office. He rushed over to her, and she grabbed on to one of his shoulders to try to steady herself. Lyra was swaying dangerously.

"What happened?" Brandon asked.

"Voldemort..." Lyra whispered.

She heard a frightened gasp from Brandon's direction, but before she could say anymore, her knees gave out. The last thing she remembered was the floor hurtling towards her.

* * *

Sunlight pierced Lyra's eyes. She was in a bright, circular meadow with a swing set swaying in the middle. Everything looked a little blurry.

"Where am I?" she asked out loud.

A young girl's laugh echoed through the meadow.

Lyra spun around, searching for the source of the sound.

"Over here!"

Lyra turned back to the swing set, and saw a familiar little girl. Her curly blonde hair danced in the wind as she swung back and forth. For once, Brianna's appearance didn't bring Lyra any sadness or grief. Lyra felt like all of her senses were slow and sluggish.

"Where am I?" Lyra slowly asked. "Is this a dream?"

Brianna giggled and continued to swing back and forth on the swing set.

"Bri?" Lyra called.

"Lyra," Brianna said, bringing herself to a sudden stop. "You have to be careful. You can't trust him, Ly."

"What are you talking about?" Lyra asked, frustrated. "Who can't I trust?"

Brianna began swinging again.

"It's time for you to wake up, Lyra," she sang from the swing.

"What do you mean?"

"You have to wake up!" Brianna repeated.

The meadow began fading around Lyra. Brianna and the swing set became blurry.

"Wait!" Lyra cried. "Brianna, wait! No, come back!"

"Wake up, Lyra."

"No..."

"Yes, that's it, dear!"

"Is she finally coming around, Mum?"

"I think so, Ginny. Back up, Ron. Give her some air."

Lyra lurched forward, and sat up. She first noticed that she was surrounded by several people. She also had a pounding headache and a dry throat.

"Here you go, drink this," a kind voice from her left said. Mrs. Weasley was holding out a large glass of iced water. Lyra grabbed the glass and started chugging down the water as if her life depended on it.

"Thank you," she rasped, returning the glass to Mrs. Weasley.

Lyra took a moment to further inspect her surroundings. She was in a soft bed, in a room that was covered in posters of a group called the Weird Sisters and the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch team. Ron, Ginny, and Brandon were sitting around her.

Lyra slowly laid back down, and massaged her head.

"Where am I?" she asked.

"Welcome to the Burrow!" said Ginny, proudly.

Lyra pushed herself up into a sitting position.

"Is this your room, Ginny?" she asked. Ginny nodded. She looked like she was about to ask something, but was interrupted by a lot of noise coming from the kitchen.

"That'll be Harry!" Ron said excitedly. "Dad and the twins went to pick him up."

Lyra smiled. "Is Hermione here too?"

"Yeah, she got here yesterday," Ron said over his shoulder. He was already heading towards the door. "I'll be right back!"

Ginny followed him downstairs, leaving Mrs. Weasley and Brandon.

"We've all been so worried about you, dear," Mrs. Weasley said. "You've been asleep for almost a whole day! Arthur and I were about to call a Healer for you..."

"What happened, Ly?" Brandon asked. "You said...you said something about You-Know-Who..."

"What about You-Know-Who?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"N-nothing," Lyra stammered. She couldn't tell Brandon what happened. He was too young to have to worry about all of that.

"It wasn't nothing!" Brandon cried. "You were missing all night, and then you come back looking like a zombie! And...and...you were talking in your sleep! You kept calling for Brianna!"

"It was just a nightmare!" Lyra said.

"Then where were you all night?"

"It's none of your business, Brandon," Lyra said coldly.

Brandon face crumpled, and Lyra felt a pang of guilt.

"Fine, whatever," Brandon muttered before storming angrily from the room.

"Sorry, Mrs. Weasley," Lyra said in a calmer voice. "Can - can I see Harry, please?"

"Sure, dear, I'll send him up," Mrs. Weasley replied before hurrying downstairs. It was silent for a few moments. Lyra wondered if Dumbledore would come back to talk to her. She knew that she needed to tell him about Voldemort as soon as possible. Maybe Harry would know what she should do...

Lyra heard an angry voice from the kitchen below. She heard snatches of something called a "Ton-Tongue Toffee" and "Wizard Wheezes".

Suddenly, the door flew open. Harry, followed by Ron and Hermione, quickly filed into the room.

"Harry!" Lyra cried. She flung her legs over the side of the bed. She was still a little unsteady on her feet, but Harry quickly crossed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms.

Lyra momentarily forgot about all of her fear and anxiety. She threw her arms around Harry's neck and pulled herself up - he had grown taller over the summer - to meet his lips. Harry circled his arms around her waist and gently twirled her around.

She was suddenly reminded that they were not alone when an awkward cough came from the open doorway.

"Er..." Ron said, looking everywhere but at Harry and Lyra.

"Oh honestly, Ronald, it's not like we haven't seen them kiss before," Hermione muttered, shoving past him. "Lyra! It's so good to see you!"

"Good to see you too, Hermione," Lyra replied. "Can you close the door? There is something I need to tell the three of you..."

"Is this about why you ran away from your orphanage?" Ron asked.

"I didn't run away!" Lyra snapped. "I was...well...kidnapped, I guess."

"What?!"

Lyra took a deep breath and began recounting the previous two days. She started by telling them about her trip to the graveyard; then, how she was summoned with a spell to Little Hangleton in the dead of night. She revealed that it was Voldemort waiting for her, and explained their conversation as best as she could remember. Finally, Lyra told them about her return to the orphanage, collapsing from exhaustion, and her dream of Brianna.

Hermione looked gobsmacked. Harry was pale and put a comforting arm around her.

"Bloody hell," Ron whimpered.

There was a soft knock on the door, and Ginny peeked her head inside the room.

"They've stopped arguing. You can come down now," Ginny informed them before disappearing back downstairs.

Hermione was the first to pull herself together. "You need to tell Mr. and Mrs. Weasley right away. They can get in touch with Professor Dumbledore. He'll know what to do. Honestly, I'm surprised we're the first people you've told!"

"I just woke up!" Lyra interjected indignantly.

"-and why would you think it was a good idea to start arguing with You-Know-Who! You could have been killed on the spot," Hermione admonished.

"I was kidnapped by a deranged lunatic! Obviously, I was panicking!" Lyra retorted. She walked over to the door and pulled it open.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked, following close behind.

"I probably _should_ try to contact Dumbledore," Lyra sighed.

* * *

"You didn't actually see your father?" Dumbledore asked, peering at her over his spectacles.

Mrs. Weasley was able to contact Dumbledore right away. Lyra explained everything to him while the Weasleys, Brandon, and Hermione were outside finishing up dinner. Harry was with her since he said he wanted to talk to Dumbledore about something.

"Well...no sir," Lyra answered. "He said it would frighten me...but I know it was him. He was speaking Parseltongue the whole time."

"And what did you do with the mirror that your father gave you?" Dumbledore asked.

"Could you just call him Voldemort?" Lyra said stubbornly.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "It is better to embrace the truth then try to deny it, Lyra. I'm not saying you have to like the fact that he is your father, but only if you acknowledge the truth, can you hope to overcome it."

"Um...okay..." Lyra said, trying to make sense of what Dumbledore had just said. Harry was also looking a bit confused.

Lyra reached into her pocket, and pulled out the mirror. She hadn't had a chance to examine it before, but now she could see that it was ornately decorated along the sides. Across the top, written in elegant script, was "Toujours Pur".

Dumbledore leaned over and waved his wand over the mirror, muttering an incantation under his breath. He sat up again after only a minute or so.

"Well, I don't believe there are any curses on it. I'll let you keep it, but I would not suggest using it...for obvious reasons. Now, is there anything else you wish to tell me, Lyra?"

"I did have one more question, sir," Lyra said, shifting uncomfortably.

"Go on," Dumbledore prompted.

"Um...Voldemort's told me before that I shouldn't trust you...that you don't have my best interests at heart...I was just wondering...why do you think he always says that?"

Dumbledore sighed heavily, and looked back and forth between Lyra and Harry a few times.

"I can't really say," he said slowly. "Perhaps Voldemort just wants to use you against me."

Lyra could sense that there was something Dumbledore was not saying, but it she could not question him further. Dumbledore addressed Harry.

"What did you wish to speak about, Harry?"

"Oh, right," Harry said. "Well, I had this weird dream...though I'm not so certain anymore that it was merely a dream..."

Harry described a vivid dream of Voldemort murdering a muggle in the very house that Lyra had been in.

"...and when I woke up my scar was hurting."

Dumbledore had a troubled expression.

"I see..." he eventually said. "Do not dwell on these dreams, Harry, but tell me if you have any more. Now, if that is all, please excuse me. There is much to do before term begins..."

Dumbledore stood up and hastily made his way outside. Lyra could see him bid a quick farewell to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley before disappearing with a pop.

"Do you get the feeling there is something he's not telling us?" Lyra asked Harry.

Harry shrugged. "Maybe...but Dumbledore has always been a bit mysterious. We still have to trust him."

* * *

**Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait, my power was knocked out for a week! I'm going on vacation soon, so there won't be any updates for a while.**


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